“Mom, what are you talking about? He’s my father.”
“He’s not the man you think he is.”
At that moment, my father approached. I quickly ended the call.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“Mom.”
His smile disappeared.
“What did she say?”
Before I could answer, my father glanced at my phone screen, where my mother’s name was still visible.
“Did she see the picture?”
I nodded.
My father closed his eyes.
“Then it’s already too late.”
“Too late for what, Dad?”
He took my hand.
“Emily, if I tell you something now, promise me you’ll listen until the very end.”
Just then, another message arrived on my phone from my mother.
“Don’t get into his car. Ask him why his name isn’t on your birth certificate.”
I read it and felt my knees weaken.
My father looked at me and said very calmly:
